


Fire For You

by Yenneferrrr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Bisexuality, Eventual Romance, F/M, Minor Character Death, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yenneferrrr/pseuds/Yenneferrrr
Summary: Except she’s not the adolescent girl from years ago anymore, and in place of Ravenclaw blue, she’s covered in black. And she’s not twirling her wand about his potions classroom… she’s twirling her nearly naked body around a metal pole, instead.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first ever Harry Potter fic.... and Jesus Christ, I don't know how I feel about it. I'll start off by saying I don't own anything- the characters, the music that inspired this... nothing. I apologize for any grammar mistakes. I do plan maybe one or two more chapters, if people are interested. 
> 
> It's also to note I wanted this to take place later in the timeline, while Snape is sorted in all of that Death Eater business. Anyway... *holds breath*... here it is.

He wasn’t particularly fond of these types of places… and that was putting it nicely. But his present company did, and it was absolutely ludicrous. The _damned hypocrisy_ of this man. Who would’ve thought… Lucius Malfoy enjoying the entertainment of exotic dancers. Well, that part wasn’t so hard to believe… but the sheer fact that they were muggle dancers? Malfoy’s words still echoed in the back of his mind the first night they’d found themselves at the doorstep of the establishment.

_“Pray tell our reason for being here,” Snape had asked upon seeing unmistakable sign. The fool, Snape thought. All it would take… would be for the Dark Lord to find out about their whereabouts, and they’d both be lying in a cemetery somewhere._

__

__

_The silver-haired man turned to him, reached out with a firm hand that had landed on Snape’s shoulder, and gave him one of those famous, mischievous Malfoy grins._

_“You know, as well as I, that this-” Malfoy’s other arm sweeps across their path, as if he’s presenting the building in some kind of spectacle. “- is one of the few things these muggles are good for,” he finishes, squeezing Snape’s shoulder and leaving him behind in the darkness._

That had been nearly five months ago, and although Voldemort had found their new escapades downright comical, Snape was still cautious of that split-second change. One minute the Dark Lord would find it fascinating, funny even… and the next… he could find it abominable. Punishable by death, perhaps?

Severus didn’t want to find out. 

As the two of them navigate through the dimly lit building, Snape keeps his eyes focused on the ground ahead of them. He knows the routine well enough now. They get a drink at the ostentatious lounge, Lucius always bellyaching of how watered-down muggle liquor was, and they normally seat themselves far enough from the spotlight not to be targeted directly. But not tonight...

He’s deft enough to know that muggle music is… different, obnoxious… but Lucius seems to thrum along to the foreign beats as the girls come onto the stage. The first time Snape had watched one of these girls dance and undress themselves, Lucius had pestered him for being so conflicted with it all. 

_“Loosen up a little. You’re scaring them all away,” Lucius had scolded, taking a long sip of his whiskey._

__

__

_“These girls look young enough to be my students, or your daughter if you’d ever have-”_

__

__

_“Don’t tell me you have suddenly have morals.”_

__

__

_Severus had opened his mouth to retort with some sarcastic remark, but silence grips his vocal cords with an iron-fist when a slender brunette stalks up to Lucius, her small hand tracing the lapel of his black blazer. Her attire, or lack thereof, was dark green and lace._

_“I’ve never seen you in here before,” her voice is so soft, Severus barely hears her. And as he watches through the corner of his eye as Malfoy’s hand lightly grips the flesh of this girl’s thigh, riding higher until he’s pushing her to sit comfortably on his lap… Snape wonders if Narcissa knows what her husband is up to._

_“An introduction is in order, then.”_

Shaking the memory from his head, he brings his sweating glass of bourbon to his lips. An absurd amount of currency sits in front Lucius, who is generous with what he presents to each girl that gives him attention. And as always, it’s a lot of attention when they realize just how much money he has. 

It’s as predictable as ever, girl after girl, and soon… Snape’s glass is nearing empty. He’s just about to push himself up out of his chair, to get himself and Lucius another drink, when something in the air changes. There’s no mistaking the magic that hangs in the air, and he looks at his companion hastily. Surely, a wizard as seasoned as Lucius would feel it too, the undeniable denseness of the space around them. 

But the other man is clouded by the muggle liquor already, and Severus wants to fucking howl. 

_‘What a fucking prat,’_ he thinks, watching the other man think nothing more of the girl currently swaying on the stage. 

He can feel the hair underneath the sleeves of his own black blazer stand on their ends. The music that plays above them changes… muffled, abstract guitar strings are so loud, that he can feel the vibrations through the floor. It’s ever so slightly a little harder to breathe.

She strolls closer once the raspy voice in the song starts singing, and he swallows hard. 

_“Take you like a drug. I taste you on my tongue.”_

His gaze falls to her shoes, a frayed pair of black Chuck’s… the same shoes he remembers flashing through the hallways of Hogwarts. Except she’s not the adolescent girl from years ago anymore, and instead of Ravenclaw blue, she’s covered in black. And she’s not twirling her wand about his potions classroom… she’s twirling her nearly naked body around a metal pole, instead. 

He realizes that he’s clutching his empty glass so hard, it could shatter at any moment. Even in his state of shock, he’s thankful that Lucius hasn’t caught onto his change in demeanor. 

She flattens her back against the narrow pole, facing the two of them. One of her hands reaches above, wraps around the pole, and she rolls her hips in time with the music. Her dark eyes, decorated with darkened makeup are in stark contrast of her pale skin. 

Her dark hair is straightened, and flies freely as she whips her head to one side. She’s slowly sliding toward the stage, her knees bending into impressive angles until they, too, hit the floor. The bright, white light that once illuminated her toned body suddenly resolves, and in it’s place, a deep red. 

_“Go ahead and cry little girl.”_

He sucks in a shaky breath, prays to whatever higher power above that she doesn’t recognize him, but she turns her head just in time to catch his greedy gaze. He expects her to waver, to falter in her place when she realizes it’s him… just like that one day he had unexpectedly called on her in lecture for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her lips had parted, all color drained from her face, dark eyes wide… and staring up at him in fear.

But this time, she locks eyes with him, and hooks each of her thumbs under the waistband of her black lace shorts. They ease down her thighs, a tad bit more robust since the last time he had seen her in those black pleaded skirts.

He shuts his eyes. 

He was only a man, had desires like any other... but this was so wrong.

And why her? He had never been the type to romanticize or give his students a second-thought. What about her made him squirm in his seat?

Then he remembers… just as she looks up at him through hooded eyes, and subtly gives him a grin. 

Gods, she had reminded him so much of Lily… years ago; the same mannerisms, the same innocent curiosity, the same God damned smile. But that was then, and now? She appeared to be someone entirely different. 

He has no more time to argue internally with himself about how absurd this all was, because she’s growing closer. Her eyes are trained on her old professor, but she moves towards Lucius. Even still, she’s close enough for Severus to catch a trace of her perfume. 

‘Exquisite’, he thinks. It smells just as fresh as when she had first sprayed it onto her skin, and he figures she’s used some sort of spell to keep the scent potent. His mouth is dry, his heart threatening to bruise his rib-cage. 

She’s kneeling in front of Malfoy, knees spread wide as she toys with the straps of her bralet. Snape can feel the glass still clutched in his hand suddenly give way, and he clears his throat… weakly. He reaches for Malfoy’s dry glass as well, muttering something about getting them more drinks. The other man barely registers what’s being said to him.

Striding up to the bar, he places the empty glasses down onto the counter with such force, he catches a glare from a concealed man… one big enough to effortlessly lift both him and Lucius, and throw them promptly out the door. So he gathers his emotions, puts them into check quickly, and flags down a bartender. He spits out the order, for two glasses of whiskey this time… and the strongest they’ve got, poured neat. When he’s presented with two tumblers of the amber liquid, he grabs at one, and turns. 

His eyes are closed, thinking this is just some perverse dream… a nightmare. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. 

But when his eyes open, her dark eyes are zeroed in on him… all while her hand is buried deep in Malfoy’s long hair, keeping his head close to her chest. 

Snape nearly drops the glass tumbler. 

She’s got one finger pressed firmly against her mouth, and his tongue rests heavy against his own bottom lip. Dragging it down her lips, her mouth parts in such a seductive manner, that he has to avert his eyes again.

_‘He doesn’t know who I am… or what I am. Stay. Quiet.’_

He hears her voice, clear as day, in his head… over the loud music. And he can’t help but look at her again, then down the rest of his whiskey.

–

He’s relieved when she finally disappears behind the thick, velvet curtains. Another girl is flaunting onto the stage, but Lucius has no interest in her. Abandoning his chair as well, he finds Snape still at the bar, hunched over his third glass of liquor. 

“You’re not poised to make many friends here, you know,” Lucius says, motioning to the bar as he palms the untouched glass of whiskey. That was the last thing Severus wanted… what he wanted, was to go back to his flat, to light himself a fire and sink into a book or two, or three. 

“All the same,” the dark haired man says carelessly. “How much longer until you’ve met your… quota.” 

Blue eyes burn into dark brown, and before Lucius can speak, she slides between them. What impeccable fucking timing, he thinks. 

“You missed the show,” she says to Snape, watching in satisfaction as he clenches his jaw to keep his mouth shut. “Do I bore you?” The mouth on her. Lucius raises a curious eyebrow, tonguing his whiskey in amusement as he watches the exchange before him. This was the most contact Severus had made with one of the girls here, and in his intoxicated state, Severus was certain the rest of Malfoy’s money would go to this girl if she’d promise to accommodate them… both. 

But something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time starts to bubble beneath the surface.

Jealously. 

He didn’t want to share her with Lucius… and he didn’t know why. Which was equally as infuriating. 

“On the contrary,” he manages, tensing when he feels her hand on his arm. He feels as if he’s burning underneath the blazer and long-sleeved black button down. Before he knows what’s happening, Lucius is handing her a banded stack of muggle money, and she’s pulling Severus away from the bar.

“Then let me show you what you missed,” she says wickedly, winking at Lucius as she tugs Severus along. 

He regains composure as she leads them through a hallway, opens a door to a private room, and pulls him along with her. And he spits out the outrage almost instantly.

“Are you _out of your mind,_ ” he asks harshly, pulling his arm from her grasp as if she’d burned him. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” Their positions, somehow, are reversed. She’s the one pressed up against the door now, but he doesn’t scare her. She pushes back against his chest, catching him off guard. He stumbles back a bit, but stands his ground. How dare he judge her… after all the horrible things he had done to her classmates… to her friends.

“I could ask you the same damn thing,” she says angrily, invading his space. He stumbles backwards, feels the back of his knees hit something soft, and falls back against a sturdy chair. In this light, he’s just as she had remembered. Long, dark hair… broad chest, narrow hips… long, skilled fingers. 

“I’m here,” he starts, with a tight jaw, his deep voice doing something… unfamiliar to her. The normal patrons of this place didn’t have her shifting her weight to ease the pressure between her legs. “- because your _big tipper_ out there wanted to come,” he says with venom. She cocks an eyebrow, much to his dismay. Was she… enjoying this?

She’s about to come back with a witty remark, when she sees something else in him… something he’s fighting for control over.

He knew she was a smart girl, nearly smarter than that know-it-all Granger, so he assumes she already knows. So he swallows hard again… choosing the words that come out of his mouth carefully.

“He’s back,” Snape stresses, his brown eyes begging for her to understand just who he means. And she does… instantly. “And he’ll kill you if he finds out about this,” he motions to the room about them, to the compromising position their in. He realizes that her clothing has changed, and when she’d have time to do it, he doesn’t know. But instead of the basic black lace, she’s got navy blue on. 

“But not you,” she questions, with narrowed eyes. 

“I am here for mere ‘entertainment’,” he says, quoting his last word with his fingers. “And you…” His voice drifts, as do his eyes… down her body. “- are trying to make a living in their world.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness! I can't begin to thank you guys enough for reading, commenting, kudo-ing, bookmarking- all of it! I honestly didn't think many people would enjoy this! So I had a few things I wanted to clarify. I'm aware that some people may be put off by the 'you are the other character' idea. I know I was at first, which is why I've decided to name her. It makes things a tad bit easier for me to write, but please feel free to continue thinking of yourself as this original character!
> 
> I also wanted this chapter to kind of be a backstory as to why she's somewhat important to Snape. Or at least, more memorable than the rest of the students he's ever taught. I'll always think his first and true love is Lily. 
> 
> If anyone was interested in a playlist of sorts, corresponding to the chapters, it's [ HERE!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4uRf63U8XNz8O9oOZhmwYu?si=hmy7iGb-R4mxe7vTOYvzrA)
> 
> Anyway. Enough of my babbling. Here's the second chapter! Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

There had to be a meaning behind their chance encounter. He was sure of it. Two weeks time had passed since their crossing, and he hadn’t been able to shake her from his thoughts. This wasn’t like him… maybe Lucius had put something in his whiskey that night. 

No. The nitwit wasn’t smart enough for that, he reasons.

So he sits back in the leather high-back chair that faces his fireplace, stares out against the roaring flame that illuminates his room. The sound of crackling wood bounces off the walls. He allows his eyes to slip shut, inhaling deeply as he lets the solitude overwhelm him. 

But when he opens his eyes, he’s not sitting in front of his fireplace anymore. 

_He’s standing in the doorway of his old potions classroom, the smell of stale smoke hangs in the air. It looks like any other day, so the meaning behind this buried memory is unclear. He can feel himself about to open his mouth, to sternly instruct the students to open their books and turn to a specific page, but he feels his own jaw tighten when he hears her voice._

_“God, you’re insufferable.”_

_Silence falls over the rest of the class as the Gryffindor girl whips her head around to face the dark-haired Ravenclaw. The other students have grown quiet, and quickly. Sounds of a bubbling cauldron fill the void of complete, utter silence._

_“Do you have a crush on him, then,” the blonde questions, earning snickers and laughter from the people around them. “No wonder you’re doing so well in this class, teacher’s pet,” she continues, but turns back in her seat to whisper among her friends._

_And it’s over, until the dark-hair Ravenclaw slowly stands from her desk, deliberate about her steps. When she stops just inches away from her tormentor, she tilts her head to the side, impartial to any more teasing that could be thrown her way._

_Her pale hand reaches out, the heel of it coming in contact with a stack of books, and pushes. The hardcover books scrape across the wooden desk, topple over, and knock into a bottle of ink. The black liquid spills across the parchment, the books, the desk, and the Gryffindor girls barely drive their chairs back in time._

_“Oh, you little bitch-”_

_Both girls are reaching for their wands._

_The sound of someone clearing their throat stops either one, and the girl standing can feel the undeniable presence of Snape at her back. She knows she should move, to scurry back to her seat, but her feet are like lead. She can tell he’s close, because she can feel the heat climb up her backside, can feel it on the back of her neck._

His eyes refocus on the fire in front of him. That particular memory had occurred nearly six years ago, but he can remember it as if it were yesterday. And it was because she had been the only one, save for Lily, who had ever dismissed any preconceived notion about him. Not that he needed sympathy from anyone, especially from these snotty-nosed kids. 

But they all arrived to the castle every autumn, without fail, with some inflated perception that he was the bad guy. He was the dark, malicious, unforgiving professor. Nobody could imagine the alternative. Except… for Lily… and her. 

\---

It’s another dreadful day. The sky is gloomy, the fellow professors all seem to have adopted his sour mood, and if it were possible, the students were extra bothersome. He’s sitting at his desk; an old, heavy looking antique that’s covered in rolled parchment, leather-bound books, a black feather quill…

He’s assigned a hefty portion of reading for the remainder of the class, and is delighted just to sit. But as his eyes scan the room, he notices a droopy head. With the flick of his wand, the half-asleep student is jolted upright, the chair pushed in, the book slams shut and casts a cloud of dust up into the air, then violently opens and slams back against the desk. 

And as the awakened student turns to him with wide eyes, yet another memory fights it’s way to replay inside Snape’s head.

_They’re in Advanced Potions now. And as usual, there are only a handful of students. A clever Slytherin girl named Aurora who he recognizes instantly, since he serves as head of that house. A pair of Hufflepuff students, who in all his years of teaching, were by far the most patient he’s ever seen- nothing he threw at them could ruffle their feathers. The rest were a handful of Gryffindors who stood around, arms crossed over their chests as if they had somewhere better to be._

_And finally, the Ravenclaw girl he’s come to think of as harmonious; she didn’t speak much, she followed instructions, showed her impatience with slower students by leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, turned in her assignments on time, never objected to his grading._

_He supposes if every student had behaved as her, he wouldn’t be nearly as bitter._

_The task he’s set about them all is to pair up and to brew a potion without his help or guidance, simply by following the directions in one of their books. There’s a bit of shuffling as they take their respective places next to their partners. Set before them are empty mixing bowls, pairing knives, wooden spoons, glass droppers..._

_An hour or so into the lesson, the same blonde Gryffindor girl sets her eyes on her rival across the room. The two dark haired girls, one Ravenclaw and the Slytherin, have paired up._

_“Look at them,” the blonde mutters, nodding with her head towards the two girls across from her. “Can’t tell the difference between their heads and their arses.”_

_Aurora’s head lifts in the direction of their voices, her icy blue eyes never wavering from Sinead’s, the blonde who’s been tormenting Aurora’s partner since their first year._

_“Don’t pay her any attention. She’s doing it to get a rise out of me,” the other dark haired girl says, reaching out for Aurora’s arm. And they go about their business._

_Until a few moments later, when their cauldron starts to rapidly bubble. The two girls look at each other, panic stricken in Aurora’s face._

_“What did you do?”_

_“Nothing. I was just about to add the egg shell powder.”_

_The giggling from across the room is obvious, and when the two girls look up, Aurora scowls. Sinead is locked onto their cauldron as her own partner smirks, her painted lips moving slowly as she enchants the cauldron across the room- effectively ruining their hard work with the excessive heat._

_“Aurora, wait-”_

_The Slytherin girl mutters something… the pairing knife on the table in front of them floats into the air, turns, and slices through the air at dangerous speed. It misses Sinead’s head by a breath, some of her blonde hair wafting to the floor. But the knife doesn’t stop there, and instead crashes into something on Snape’s desk- shattering glass everywhere._

_It’s when Aurora stalks up to the desk and picks up the shredded flower, that he walks in from his adjoining office. The color drains from all of their faces. He already seems livid with the commotion that’s pulled him from his work, but when he sees Aurora holding up the slowly wilting, now black, flower… he loses it._

_And the next day, when she drops off her ten page report on the Veritaserum potion, there’s something else that she slips at the end of her report._

_Later, he’ll find it, as he’s grading. He’s confused at first, upon seeing the hand-sketched version of what had been sitting on his desk moments before her partner had obliterated it._

_A small white daisy._

_And as his fingers gently touch over the colored sketch, it comes to life… off of the page, and slowly floats into the palm of his hand- much like he had done for Lily, years ago in that open field of grass. He swallows hard, places the now bare parchment onto his desk, feels something he hasn’t in a long time… thankful._

_The next day, he’s tossing their graded pieces of work carelessly onto each of their desks. Most reactions are that of disappointment, which give him the slightest sliver of satisfaction. And when he gets to her desk, instead of nonchalantly throwing her stack of papers, he carefully sets it down in front of her._

_A perfect score._

_With the word, ‘Outstanding’, written at the bottom in black ink._

–

As he strides through the corridors of the castle, he’s not surprised to stumble upon a couple here and there, locked in a pitiful display of public affection. Years ago, he would’ve wistfully flicked his wand, separating the joined lovers. But he’s learned to overlook these things. 

It was hard to think about, but he remembers what it was like to be their age once… remembers what it was like to be in love.

So he walks by them without as much as a second glance, descends the staircase down into the dungeons, and the dim light sets off another past vision.

_It’s his turn to patrol the hallways since the curfew has taken place. It’s half after nine. Only sixth and seventh year students were allowed to be out of their common rooms past ten, so he’ll suffer for thirty more minutes. And just as his time is coming to an end, he spots Flitwick making haste with his short legs._

_“Off in such a hurry,” Snape calls out, catching the other professor’s attention._

_“As should you,” the other man says, before making a start to the Ravenclaw common room. Severus watches him go, is still for a second, and reluctantly chases after the midget. He barely makes it in time to see Filius disenchant the portrait. And as the large painting gives way to the boisterous room, he’s wondering just what in the hell he’s doing there in the first place._

_Pushing past a crowding group of students, he finally sees what all the fuss is about._

_And his first thought is to see if Filius has fainted, or had a heart attack, or both._

_In the center of the Ravenclaw common room is a single chair, and sitting in it, Slytherin’s very own Aurora Blake._

_Except she’s not alone. The Ravenclaw girl who’d thoughtfully reconstructed his most prized possession was straddling her lap. And moving in such a manner, he wasn’t sure if he should be shielding the rest of the student’s eyes._

_Most of the Ravenclaw boys sat around them, transfixed. Mouths hanging wide._

_“What in the world is going on here,” Flitwick demanded, in a weakened voice. Slowly, one of the girls approaches them, holding an empty mug._

_“Aurora showed up out of no where. She demanded we let her in, said she needed to talk to Reya.” She presents the mug to Snape. “She had this with her… gave some of it to Reya, too.”_

_He snatches the mug out from the girl’s hand, brings it to his nose, and knows instantly what it is. Amortentia. The damned little weasels, he thinks. Someone had been in his potions cupboard, and he has half the mind to let Filius deal with the girls by himself while he tracks down the thief._

_All it takes is for Reya to roll her hips, the dark gray skirt hoisting higher and higher, until Snape snaps his fingers at the girl who’d presented the mug to him. She’s the one who gently pulls Reya from Aurora’s lap, and leads her up into the dorms._

_“Miss Blake,” Snape says sternly, grabbing her attention long enough to pull her out of the trance. “Back to your room.” She looks up bewildered, her white button-down in a disarray, her green and silver tie loosened around her neck. “Immediately,” he reinforces, provoking her out of the chair and awkwardly pushing between him and Filius._

_He looks around at all the Ravenclaw males, frowns and confused looks evident on their faces. As if he had just taken away their favorite toy._

_“To bed with the lot of you,” he warns, making the boys scatter about frantically._

_A week later, when he’s certain the effects of the potion have worn off, he sees the two of them._

_In the dungeon, pushed up against the damp, cold stone._

_He stops immediately, the air stricken from his lungs._

_‘Say something,’ he can hear the voice in the back of his mind._

_But what they’re doing isn’t because of a love potion. That much, he’s sure._

_Aurora has her pressed against the wall of the dungeon, across the way from his own classroom. Her hands keep Reya’s head still as they duel for control over their passionate kiss, Reya’s hands clutching the green and silver elastic of Aurora’s pullover._

_He doesn’t know whether to leave or to stay, but he knows he has to do something before they catch him. Oh, the irony._

_“We’ll have to thank Sinead for that potion,” Aurora says, now trailing kisses down a pale neck._

_“She really thought she was doing something, didn’t she,” Reya says, her eyes heavy with pleasure as she gives into the other girl’s assault._

_He turns sharply, quietly. Leaves the dungeon… decides he’s suddenly in need for some fresh air._

_Christmas rolls around, and most of the students have packed to go back home for the holidays. He’s in the Great Hall, seated at the high table with a handful of other professors. A hot tea sits in front of him as he skims through the morning paper._

_Looking up, he spots Aurora Blake… but with another Slytherin boy._

_And in that moment, he frowns._

_His next thought is to look for Reya, but she’s nowhere to be seen. And he knows, all too well, why she’s not present. For the first time ever, his heart breaks… for someone besides himself._

_By the end of the day, most of the students have departed. There’s a few grouped around the massive Christmas tree in the Great Hall, a handful walking the halls, and on his way to his own private room, he sees her._

_She’s sitting out under the clock tower courtyard archway, her back pressed up against the ice cold stone, her knees to her chest. He supposes this is her first heartbreak, but who was he to judge? He still wasn’t over his, either._

_‘Pull yourself together. She’s just a dumb girl,’ he thinks. And he starts to walk away, but something pulls at him. His shoulders slump in defeat, and he watches her silently for a few minutes before he pulls out his wand._

_He mutters something in the dead silence, and watches grimly as the bright colors come to life, illuminating her face._

_He walks away before he can see her reaction._

_The floating spheres of light are interchanging their colors, almost look like glass bubbles, and they’re breathtakingly beautiful. She reaches out with a timid hand to touch one, and as she does, it pops._

_A light sprinkling of colors trickle down, pooling in the palm of her hand, and slowly… transform into a small, white daisy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who ever could it be sending him all those sweet little memories????
> 
> And if anyone was wondering, yes... That is Aurora Blake from The 100. Thanks for reading! Please let me know how it is!

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God, I can't take it. I'll go hide now.


End file.
